


Kanon

by Lee_Mix



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In some lives, you’re a genius. In others, you’re a madman. You can be obsessive, quaint, kind, cruel, but you’re experiencing every kind of emotion you possibly can in these lives. Like someone is playing a song and adding your life experiences in each melody. Only the backbone of the song is always repeated.</p><p>(Korra/Asami - Reincarnation AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kanon

The first time you meet--or, perhaps, the fifteenth--you’re in a bookstore browsing for decent manuals on engineering.

You catch the sight of her from the corner of your eye, the way she’s lean against the wall waiting for her friend to finish squealing about having their book signed by some mainstream author you’ll never care about.

She blushes when she catches you looking and tugs on the end of her ponytail. You can’t help but grin.

You debate for fifteen minutes whether or not to give her your number, and look down at your phone, but by the time you look back, she’s already gone half-way down the street.

You sigh and flex your shoulders.

She was probably not your type anyway.

 

* * *

 

This time, you’re an engineer in a war you can’t even remember the before part of.

Your father is an industrialist, and you’re one of the chief engineers for a project to create planes stealthy enough to bomb one area that may hold innocents. But it’s for the “good of the mission”, so you go along with it.

Moral integrity screams under your skin, but you’re encased in enough iron to withstand the pain.

You see her again, this time. She’s a soldier that’ll be going in head-first in the mission, and you’ve got to design it so that she can get around quick enough. She barely looks at you. Her eyes tell stories of ash and smoke, and the scars on her skin are a battleground all of their own.

You fumble over your words as you speak to her, and just like that, she’s gone off to train in the field.

Later on, you hear that your prized invention was caught and ended with her going up in flames. You never pick up that wrench again.

 

* * *

 

You cross paths in an alley.

A quick mutual fuck, and it’s done.

 

* * *

 

You’re the heiress to a vast country, and she’s a liberator of the common folk.

You meet in secret, concealed from the eyes of those who wish to tear you apart. Of those who say she’s betrayed their cause, and from those who say that you’re bloodline has been tainted by a casual dalliance. That woman and woman shouldn’t touch each other in such passion, that her stance in society has little meaning when speaking words to a lady of the court.

In the end, you come to a stalemate. You must enforce action, and she must enforce justice.

You kiss the sweet blade of death, and you’ve never looked so beautiful coated in red. She holds you until you are no more, and life goes on.

 

* * *

 

Everything is metallic and sterile in this world, as you take the reigns of the ship.

Stars litter the velvet vastness, and your light obscures the natural brightness as you venture into new, uncharted lands. One planet in particular shows signs of supporting life, and you land without the common courtesy to send a message.

You are a subspecies of human, and she is the ordinary one of a species that calls themselves, what your translator picks up as, “Wind Wakers”, though those words make little sense to you.

She (you never really knew if they followed similar gender boundaries, but she says ‘I’m like you’, so you assume she is inherently female) is different. Rugged. Wild. Untamed. It draws you to them, to their culture.

You offer to make peace. They offer you battles of plants and mud flung in your face.

Their physiology is fascinating. Blue from head-to-toe, head-crests formed into the shape  of a crown, and eyes that hold more wisdom of this world than you’ll ever hope to know.

You grow close to her in this world. Gestures that make you laugh and her chirp.

It doesn’t last long. You get a radio signal requesting the location of the planet, and one of your superiors says there is a vast supply of oil.

And just like that, you leave. No goodbyes, no farewells.

It was to protect them.

To protect her.

 

* * *

 

You meet in this world on the day she dies.

All you wanted to do was catch the train back home, get into a scorching hot bath, and fall asleep doing too much work. It was a mundane ritual, but one that was familiar and easy for you to get into the habit of.

Nothing is ever that simple in this world.

You’re flung down a flight of stairs, and you hear a shot go off. You land with a broken foot, and you crawl over to find cover.

“H-Hey. . ..”

You see her lying here. She’s got a kid huddled in her arms. You can’t speak, but you turn your head and look at her with fear.

“D-Do me a favour?”

You nod.

“Keep her safe?”

You nod again.

Her eyes roll back, and her head falls to the floor. The girl screeches, and you have to cover her mouth to stop those people shooting from finding her.

You cradle her close, and whisper apologies for a woman you don’t even know the name of.

 

* * *

 

This is strange.

Where _are_ you?

Travelling from one world to the next. . . how _old_ is your soul?

Nobody should travel around this much, you think.

Sometimes you see her in your lives. In one, she was your college roommate, but she left after a year to pursue something else. In another, she was your worst enemy, and you got more scars on your heart than on your hands. Sometimes she’s just a casual glance, in others, she’s the person you would die for, or kill to protect from even the slightest threat of harm.

In some lives, you’re a genius. In others, you’re a madman. You can be obsessive, quaint, kind, cruel, but you’re experiencing every kind of emotion you possibly can in these lives. Like someone is playing a song and adding your life experiences in each melody. Only the backbone of the song is always repeated.

She’s in some of them. Not, in others.

You want a life soon, the end of this.

Your soul is old.

It needs to rest.

 

* * *

 

“. . . ‘sami. Asami!”

You shake your head, and are greeted with blue eyes and a wide grin. You blink and sit up, and take in the surroundings.

Pastel colours, weird creatures, a surreal sense of floating as you stand up to look at her. You’re pretty sure that you’re the only humans in this world. And then it makes sense where the two of you are.

The Spirit World.

“Come on, quit napping!”

Napping? Was it all just a dream?”

“We’ve got a world to explore. Can’t waste time dreaming, can we?”

She holds out her hand, and you take it with little argument. In fact, you cover your linked limbs with your other hand, and kiss her fingers. She pauses, looks up at you, and blushes heavily.

“Why dream? I’ve got the best reality right in front of me.”

 


End file.
